


Oncoming traffic or Second Meetings

by choppedmint (forevermint)



Series: The Road Not Taken [16]
Category: The Morganville Vampires - Rachel Caine
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Gen, Historical References, M/M, Non-Canon Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:00:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21642580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forevermint/pseuds/choppedmint
Summary: ORIGIN "Disgruntlement: Oncoming Traffic or Second Meetings": Back in the ye olde days where stories had two names? Anyway, this was another part I had outlined for a while. One of my more interesting struggles was writing a more fragile, time effected, and sick version of Myrnin - and then trying to have Arthur not respond in the same norm as his time might. Though Arthur is a treat-anyone street doctor, so he’s probably seen worse. But Myrnin is a bit more and having that balance was very hard to do. But I liked the challenge.
Relationships: Myrnin (Morganville Vampires)/Arthur Dee
Series: The Road Not Taken [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1558276





	Oncoming traffic or Second Meetings

He was standing directly in the middle of the road. Arthur was far more confused that there would be someone that foolish than why someone was actually doing it. He opened the door, looking out, puzzled at the shouts. “Hum?” The figure, matted hair and dirty clothing, shouldn’t have been recognizable. But he was. It was the same man that Arthur had seen in the ally. The one who had somehow known he was a doctor without any prior knowledge about him. It couldn’t be a coincidence that he was here when it was directly outside of his shop. There was even a sign posted with his name on it on the window and everything.

Sighing, Arthur grabbed a coat and exited the building, pulling it on as he went to find out what was going on. Someone else had already gone out into the middle of the street to try and pull the man out of the way of the foot and carriage traffic. There was a cart stopped right in front of him, the horse shying away, spooked. The man was just watching it, even as someone tried to forcefully pull him out of the way. Presumably this person was the cart driver. The pulling seemed about as effect as if he’d tried to pull the _cart_ instead. Either the man was stronger than he looked, or he was heavy.

“Get out of the way!” the other man was insisting, but the one standing in the middle of the street just kept looking at the horse, almost curious.

“Hey!” said Arthur, jogging to make up the distance. He stopped in front of the disheveled man and chewed on his lips. Then he got between the man and the horse, which was a _really_ bad idea, but it got the other man to focus on him. His eyes looked very far away. “You alright?” asked Arthur, not unkindly.

The man looked slowly to his left, where the cart driver was still trying to forcefully remove him. It seemed like a gentle push, but the man went stumbling back, looking like he’d had the breath knocked out of him. Arthur gaped. The cart driver must have been on the leaner side, which explained why he’d been so ineffective against the rag-covered man. Even though he didn’t look presentable, there were muscles unchanged under that excuse of clothing. Well built, healthy looking apart from the eyes. The eyes told Arthur the real story.

“Look,” he said, since the man was aimlessly looking around. “Come this way, okay? Off the street?” Gently, he laid a hand on the other man’s shoulder, fully expecting him to push him away in turn.

Instead, the man flinched back, growling. Then he shook his head a bit, eyes growing more focused. “Sorry, sorry,” he said, scrubbing his hands through his hair.

“It’s … it’s alright,” said Arthur. “But you still need to come out of the street. Come on.” And again, he reached out, gently gripping the other man’s wrist. The man seemed embarrassed now, eyes slightly watery. But he let Arthur drag him out of the self-made traffic jam.

There wasn’t many other places Arthur could have brought him, so they ended up in his shop. The man looked around, eyes suddenly going brighter as he saw the variety of things on the shelves. He practically dived at them and Arthur was about to open his mouth to protest – everything was in order – when he saw that the man wasn’t actually doing harm to any of his things.

It was honestly impressive how he set everything out, organizing all that Arthur owned. He could hear the man muttering under his breath, seeming to be enchanted with everything Arthur had. Suddenly, he turned around, hurriedly taking a couple of steps to grab Arthur’s arms. Arthur wasn’t too pleased about that, heart jumping in surprise, but the man said in a far clearer voice than anything else Arthur had heard from him yet, “You’re an alchemist!”

Arthur honestly hadn’t expected that. He thought the other man wasn’t responsive. “Y-yes I am. And a doctor,” which was roughly the same thing, with a little less attention to figuring things out.

“Wonderful!” said the man. He turned back. “You know, you’d really benefit from having …” Arthur gaped further as he started to explain where he was _lacking_. It was like this man had just waved a hand and revealed he was a wizard in disguise. The fact that he seemed to understand what he was talking about further stunned him.

“Sorry,” he finally said, holding up his hands. “You were standing out in the middle of the road and then you just suddenly start talking like an academic. Who _are_ you?”

The man stopped the wild waving of his hands, which apparently was just how he talked, and seemed puzzled. “I haven’t introduced myself yet? I was sure that I had.” He got that cloudy, confused look in his eyes again and his shoulders slumped.  
“Who are you then?” he finally asked, pointing a finger at Arthur.

Arthur, who’d expected him to already know, was once again surprised. He was in his shop and still didn’t know who Arthur was. “Arthur Dee,” he finally explained.

The man got a puzzled look this time, mouthing the names several times as if he was trying to place it. Finally, he just shrugged and pointed at himself. “I’m Lord Myrnin. Myrnin will do.”

Lord was the biggest stretch that Arthur had ever heard. He almost laughed but swallowed it. “Sorry … but you don’t look like a Lord.”

Myrnin looked down, still puzzled. “No, I suppose I don’t. I wonder whose clothes these are.” As if they weren’t his own. Which would have brought up a question if Arthur had attempted to follow that line of thinking.

“How do you know so much about what’s here?” he asked, waving around. This seemed to bring Myrnin’s attention back to the here and now, at least. He’d been looking down at his clothing, possibly musing about something other than what his eyes were seeing. But he looked back around at the shop when Arthur mentioned it.

“I’m an alchemist too!” he said brightly. Which Arthur was only slightly more inclined to believe than him being a Lord. At least it wasn’t a complete stretch of the imagination, considering he did seem to know what he was talking about. “Really …? Well …”

There wasn’t much he could at once do to find proof of that. The man was good with things around here, but he was still looking lost and distant.

“Food!” Myrnin said, clapping his hands together. “Oh, sorry … maybe not. Clothes? Do you have any I can borrow?”

“Do you have any money?” Arthur said doubtfully. He wasn’t feeling too inclined to give Myrnin anything besides a bit of medical attention and perhaps a bit of bread. Something, but he didn’t look like he was starving.

“I think so?” said Myrnin mildly. “Doubt it was robbed.” He patted his sides, then chest, then from some fold of tattered cloth he pulled a pouch. There was the sound of coins clinking around from the inside. “Here,” said Myrnin dismissively, just tossing it to Arthur. “Useless to me.”

Arthur caught the bag out of reflex, wincing as cushioned coins banged against his bones. The bag was surprisingly weighty, and he pulled it open with the same surprise that he found himself faced with once again.

“This … is a lot. Why are you dressed like that if you have this much?”

The man mumbled a bit, maybe an answer, but Arthur couldn’t hear it. Instead he turned around the back of the counter, poking around with more interest than even a wondering child had ever shown for Arthur’s work. “Oh, what’s this!” He pulled something out but didn’t wait for Arthur to answer. Then there was another dive for things under the counter. He’d found the books, opening one. “I’ve read it!” he said, like ticking off a list. Half the books he’d read and then the ones _Arthur_ were still trying to puzzle out were set on the pile.

“Wait,” he said, for what felt like the hundredth time. “You know how to read that?” Myrnin skipped back, pulling out one book or another. “ _Alchemical Experiments of the Great Magister Kleiss_ ,” he said, finger following the line of the title. “It’s quite an easy language, really.” He looked up at Arthur as he crouched over the pile of books. “There’s probably not a language in one of these books I couldn’t read.” There was the distant look again. “I could show you, if you like. Clothes?”

Arthur was reeling, but this time he was the one to get drawn back. “Yes … of course. Here.” He held out Myrnin’s purse of money, having taken out the price of clothing.

“I’m a bit shorter than you, but there’s probably …” he mused, walking toward the back room. It was only when he had halfway opened the door that he looked back. “Coming?” Myrnin was looking at the books again.

“Hum?” he asked, looking up.

“Come on,” said Arthur, tilting his head in the direction of the back room. “I’m not leaving you alone with all my containers. I’m still trying to work out if you’re smart or sick.”

Myrnin got to his feet, brushing off what passed for trousers. He looked a bit embarrassed again, but just shook his head. “Guess going with you is the best way to find out, eh?”

**Author's Note:**

> ORIGIN "Disgruntlement: Oncoming Traffic or Second Meetings": Back in the ye olde days where stories had two names? Anyway, this was another part I had outlined for a while. One of my more interesting struggles was writing a more fragile, time effected, and sick version of Myrnin - and then trying to have Arthur not respond in the same norm as his time might. Though Arthur is a treat-anyone street doctor, so he’s probably seen worse. But Myrnin is a bit more and having that balance was very hard to do. But I liked the challenge.


End file.
